Happy Thoughts

Goal of the Week: Register car.  Sound easy?  It’s not.  The husband’s company refuses to help us (it’s not in our contract!)  HR casually provided us two locations, both of which were WRONG.  Fail.

  • Transportation taken: bus, train, train, train, bus, train, train, bus
  • Stopped at two incorrect locations before finally locating DETRAN
  • Caught in rainy season downpour with no umbrella
  • Became nauseous and felt the need to destroy something
  • Was given this to do list (of which I understood four words):

  • Printed payment ticket from machine, turned away at Banco do Brasil, 15 minute walk to Santander Bank in the rain, paid taxes upon returning to Banco do Brasil
  • Second floor… did not have proper documents… car STILL NOT registered
  • Defeated, suppressed tears, walk of shame to the train
  • Threw up on metro.*  During rush hour.  Not. Kidding. 
  • Developed hate of all things new and difficult
  • Arrived home.  Rested.  Large car fire in garage. 
  • Fled building in pajamas.  Met numerous neighbors while sick and half naked. 
  • Acquired headache from burning rubber and gasoline smoke

*Getting sick on the metro is not funny yet.  Unless you are my unsympathetic husband who proceeded to laugh as I laid in bed after THE WORST DAY EVER.

SO… as I prepare to return to DETRAN this afternoon, I am choosing to focus on pleasant memories from our previous weekend at the beach. 

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Our good friend Suzanna already did a lovely post on our weekend jaunt to Praia de Camburi so you can just read hers.  I figure I earned a lazy post after vomiting on strangers while enclosed in a contained space yesterday.  Photo tour, commence.

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Jeff, the husband & Alex enjoying lunch on the beach.

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Our adopted dog for the weekend, Tuku.

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A little mother-daughter beach bum for your Friday.

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Myself, Suzanna, Jana & Tara in our conservative swimsuits.

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Paddle boarding.  Apparently, quite hard if you are tall.  Or hail from Minnesota.

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Husband, left.  Jeff Jones, right.

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Our charming pousada was located two blocks from the beach on this dirt road.

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Pray for me as I partake on round two of registration today.

Happy thoughts. Puppies. Coconut juice. Rainbows. Hugs. Books. Picnics. High fives.

Embu das Artes

My husband secretly cooked me meatloaf on Monday.  (It is feasible that it was less covert and more my avoidance of the kitchen.)  The dish was stuffed with sun dried tomatoes, had melted mozzarella on top, and was delish.  So here I am, two days later, eating a cold meatloaf sandwich (of which I have gone without for a minimum of seven months). 

Eating food that can justifiably be smothered in ketchup is distracting me from the fact that my husband has been in Rio for three weeks straight.

Smart move, husband.  Well played.

Meanwhile, he has also left me with a list of priorities:
1. Puzzle
2. Anything else

Apparently, someone wants his table back and three pieces a day is not considered sufficient progress.  I have been given a deadline of ten days to complete the hardest puzzle ever.  (Thanks for that Lisa.)

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A few weeks back we took a day trip to Embu das Artes to celebrate some birthdays.  Technically, it was only Suzanna’s birthday… but she kindly shared the day with me (since mine was on hold until we could make friends to celebrate with.)

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Embu is located 40 minutes outside of São Paulo. The town was founded by Jesuit priests in the 17th century and still maintains buildings from the colonial period.

It is a charming city with cobblestone streets, handicraft shops, and plenty of spots to drink the day away.  We opted for German fare which represented inhabitants that settled in the area generations ago.

On weekends and holidays, there is a handicraft fair which has been occurring for more than 70 years and attracts people from all over the country.

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AND there were puppies… which makes this my new favorite weekend jaunt.

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I have a new found love for all things guinea fowl.

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Taste testing artisanal cachaças.

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The floating head might be advertising hair braids.  I’m not sold.

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My husband ‘humoring me’ after I asked him to muddle for the picture.  There’s a first for everything. 

Also, I have officially become my mother with the use of that phrase.

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Have you met… THE CUTEST PUPPY EVER?!?

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Sampling toasted nuts and candied coconut. 

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Sampa is what the locals affectionately call São Paulo.

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As with any good celebration, we rounded it out with Farkle and an exorbitant number of shots.  I won the contest for most farkles.

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Here’s to thirty good years, and seventy more to come.  Happy birthday Suzanna!

Super Sampler Platter

In an effort to dodge the imminent censorship requests, I am posting the remainder of my photos from the Wittig’s visit. 

No.  I did not do a great job narrowing them down.  Get cozy.  I’m sure you have nothing better to do considering the high in Minneapolis today was two degrees and I was busy wearing flip flops in Brazil.

Sorry.  That was mean. 

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Catedral da Sé, New Year’s Day mass

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Wasn’t. kidding. 

São Paulo was EMP-TY… ‘I am Legend’ style. 

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Since our favorite ramen joint in Liberdade was closed for the holidays, we submitted to hunger pains and settled for whatever was across the street.  Worst Chinese food EVER.

Four words:  gravy covered chicken bones.  Never again.  SO sorry guys.

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Parque Trianon lit up for Christmas

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And… this here is how Lisa got invited back to Brazil.

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Playing euchre with tasty coffee drinks at Santo Grão on Oscar Freire.

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Please note my opening statement regarding incoming censorship requests.

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Thank goodness Jonathan was there.

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Hotel Unique, designed by Ruy Ohtake

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Rooftop Skye Bar prior to the dinner rush… perfect timing for a sunset.

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Immediate thought process:

This should be Jonathan’s facebook profile pic!!

Oh my goodness.  I am such a jobless 14 year old.

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Vila Mada.

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Hairy lady armpits and Pee Wee Herman in perma-squat under display glass.

Well, that’s not weird. 

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From our first day exploring the market to our last few hours sampling juices, having you both here was a blast.  You are welcome back anytime.  Like, now.

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Facebook profile picture!!!

Beco do Batman

Beco do Batman (Batman’s Alley) is located in the Vila Madalena district of São Paulo. Most homes in this neighborhood are walled at the sidewalks creating private courtyards for its residents. The windy streets that branch off Rua Gonçalo Afonso have evolved into an open-air gallery.

The “batman” reference stems from the comic book series. Exploring this collection of street art by foot is reminiscent of stumbling into your very own comic strip.

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This poor man’s museum attracts graffiti artists and stencilers from across the globe.  The layers of art are constantly turning over, encouraging multiple visits to see newly surfaced works.

In 2007, SP mayor Kassab banned all means of public advertising, stirring an unintended graffiti movement to fill the then blank spaces.  While most designs are appreciated by both locals & foreigners, the ever frustrating pichação (a calligraphy style tagging) is not.

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Although there are plenty of opportunities to see urban galleries of graffiti here in São Paulo, this 500 foot curved alley is now among my favorites. I’ve included a photo tour from our visit with Lis & Jonathan.

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Could he look any less excited?  Such a stick in the mud trooper!  AND… yes, you are correct in assuming that my husband still does not read the blog.

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I’m pretty sure that guy on the left is from my worst nightmares.

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And this ladies, is exactly why you don’t go for six months without a color & a cut.  Not. pretty.

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My preference instead was to be photographing these Chicago lovebirds.

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Two of my most favorite people.  I miss your faces.  Come back already.

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Lost in a Favela

Favela:  A term generally used for shanty towns or slums in Brazil. 

Around the time we decided to move last winter, Brazil was in the news for flash floods. The rainy season downpours paired with poorly built structures caused entire favelas to collapse, sending the inhabitants and their homes down the steep hillsides.

More recently, we have read about the pacification of the Rio favelas in anticipation of the upcoming Olympic games & World Cup. 

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My experience began here. A group of boisterous school children walking home ducked into this narrow alley.  Because this was not my intended destination, I would have likely continued on my way had it not been for them.

My thought process:  Alleys are interesting.  These walls remind me of an Indiana Jones movie.  I like exploring new places.  Children are fun.  Maybe we can play soccer.

(Never mind the fact that I was following and taking pictures of random children.)

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The people I met here were beyond delightful.  My Portuguese received some intense practice as I wandered through winding alleys and climbed endless stairs visiting with neighbors.  (In truth, a few people initiated conversation by asking if I was lost.)

After chatting, I asked permission to photograph them.  All agreed.

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This boy mentioned something about meeting ‘the man’ at the top of the hill… that he would allow me a tour once I paid ‘the fee’.  I then practiced saying, “Where is the exit?”

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The favelas are known to have some of the best views in Rio.  As the neighborhoods were developed, the wealthy opted for nearness to the ocean.  Those low-lying properties were the first locations to receive utilities like electricity and running water.

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Is it just me, or are vampires everywhere these days?

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A friend recently shared that taking pictures in the favelas can be quite dangerous since they are known locations of drug trafficking.  Snapping a photo at the wrong time or place can compromise your safety.

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have meandered through here with a DSLR camera slung over my shoulder.

But would I follow those kiddos again?  In a heartbeat.  Hands down, one of my favorite experiences in Rio. 

Below are links to articles regarding the favela situation in Rio: 

BBC’s news in pictures of Rio de Janeiro’s Rocinha Favela being seized by Brazilian police.

An article from TIME about the pacification of favelas in Rio and the local companies taking advantage of growth in these areas. It specifically cites the Chapéu Mangueira Favela that I photographed.

Walking Tour of Ipanema

Ipanema is an Amerindian name meaning “dangerous waters”.  Once dirt roads and sand dunes, the neighborhood was eventually taken over by Copacabana’s wealthier residents as they overflowed onto the closest available beach. 

The 1960’s brought about a wave of liberalism in the area.  For a time, the cafés and bars along Visconde de Pirajá were the meeting places of bohemians and intellectuals.  Nowadays, the neighborhood and Cariocas themselves are more likely defined by class and sophistication.

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Lagoa Rodrigo on an unseasonably cloudy day.

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This didn’t help much.

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Motorcycle safety course under Corcovado (Christ the Redeemer).

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The holiday decorations in Brazil are extreme.  (Perhaps it is because they are not limited by an impending cold front and four inches of snow.)

The banks in Brazil seem to put on the most extensive displays of all.  On Paulista Avenue in Sao Paulo, there are already nightly performances taking place. 

The above Christmas tree is constructed in the middle of the lake each year.  To be completely honest… it’s a bit of an eyesore during the day, although I’m sure it looks quite charming lit up at night.

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Rowing Stadium.

I want to live on this street.  Agora mesmo.  I suppose a winter home would suffice.

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My life just improved significantly.  Hello Cow Parade.

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Praia de Ipanema.

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Romero Britto is a famous local artist born in Recife.  His work is easily identifiable and quite popular.  Due to replications it can be accessed by anyone in a sizable Brazilian city with a few reais.

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The stars pinned to the underside of this rock face caught my attention.  The men who slept here were kind enough to allow photos and offered pleasant conversation.

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Park Graffiti. 

I had the opportunity to visit the neighborhood Catholic Church for mass.

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Life size statues.  No comment.

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Cariocas = People of Rio de Janeiro
Paulistanas = People of Sao Paulo

It is not uncommon to end emails with beijos e abraços, meaning hugs & kisses.  As we greet friends, both new and old, we do both.  The culture here is intimate and the people are both welcoming and affectionate.

bjs e abs,
The Yureckos

Forte de Copacabana

Copacabana & Ipanema are arguably the two most frequented beaches in Rio.  The people watching is incredible, and there are activities and barracas spanning the beach front.

Arpoador Rock was recommended for sunsets, and did not disappoint.  After visiting earlier in the week, the husband and I returned on Saturday and it was lovely.

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The fort just North of Arpoador was built in 1908 as a coastal defense of the beach and the harbor of Rio de Janeiro.  The large round shape you see at the end is actually two cupolas that hold cannons.

In 1987, Brazil disbanded its coastal defense artillery branch.  The fort is now open to the public from 10 am to 8 pm, Tuesdays through Sundays.  Because I was aiming to explore closer to sunset, I missed the museum which closes at 6 pm.  Admission is only R$4 per adult and well worth the entrance fee.

There is a café that serves tables perched along the ocean’s edge.  The view from these seats includes a stunning landscape, favelas perched on hillsides, and the city lighting up at the close of the day. 

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Last of Fortaleza

Yes.  I still have pictures from Fortaleza.  This is the last of them, promise.  I will keep my comments to a minimum in hopes that you find your way to the end of this post.

Lazy Saturday morning here in São Paulo.  The forecast says seventies and rainy all weekend, so we are taking a break from the epic adventures.

On the agenda for today:

  • suco de melancia com hortelã (fresh mint watermelon juice)
  • mango with lime juice & cayenne pepper (hello mango season)
  • abundance of crime scene shows via itunes
  • homemade tortillas, salsa, & real Mexican food (which we miss dearly)
  • Portuguese study session until someone gets strangled

Since there is nothing photo-worthy about us in pajamas and piles of foreign language books, I’ll leave you with this random collection.

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On the right is a modern sculpture of Iracema, a Tabajara indigenous woman.  She is a legend in the area and was depicted in a novel by the famous Brazilian author José de Alencar.  It is said that her son with a Portuguese colonist was the first true Brazilian in Ceará.

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We visited Cinquenta Sabores multiple times during our short stay.  They let you sample as many options as you please prior to ordering.  It’s probably for the best there is not a location in our neck of the woods.  Of course, we ordered the Obama ice cream.

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Fortaleza, Part 2

I understand that you were all feeling quite sorry for us after the crab feast debacle.  Fortunately, our time in Fortaleza has consisted of more than beating miniature crab shells for nutrition.

I thought I would set the story straight with an easy-going photo tour of Fortaleza.

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My husband and I had a lively conversation about how the crabs got into these bottles.  I’m pretty sure they were inserted as baby crabs, raised inside of the bottles for many moons, and eventually trapped due to their size.

My husband pointed out that although my guess was plausible, the fruit in the surrounding bottles likely was not grown inside of them.

Although he makes an interesting point, we eventually agreed to disagree on the method of creating artisanal cachaças.

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What if I said that you were all getting these little guys and their popsicle stick guitars for Christmas?

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Take a good look…

I don’t get it either.  I am pretty sure she is performing some sort of oral surgery with a stick, resulting in a sink full of blood.

Oh, silly Brazilian humor.  I want it.

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We spent Sunday at a resort outside of the city.  We entertained the thought of wind surfing, but determined our preference was not to die.

Instead, we opted for $12 full body massages in a hut on the beach and drank out of coconuts.

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I heard a rumor the coats are coming out in Minnesota.

Would it make you feel better to know that a wave took my feet out from underneath me and I now have a ‘sand burn’ the length of my thigh?

Worth a shot.